The Morning After
by diamond-helen
Summary: Harry and Ginny get married, Remus and Hermione go home together, Remus wakes alone. Where can Hermione be? Oneshot, smut.


_For Meg, since she didn't get a smutty morning after in the latest chapter of my HGRL fic, and for LoveHGSS who leaves such lovely encouraging reviews on my stories._

Remus reached out as he woke, expecting his arm to encounter the soft warm body of the woman he had fallen asleep curled up with. Instead he was greeted by rapidly cooling sheets in an empty room. He frowned and sat up, looking for some sign that she hadn't crept out as he slept, that she'd stayed. Last night had taken him by surprise and he hated the idea that anything between them was over as soon as it had begun.

He pulled on a pair of pyjama pants and headed to the adjacent bathroom, only to find it empty and showing no signs of having been used. Despite the anxiety settling in the pit of his stomach he smiled as he walked down the stairs, his jacket, tie and shoes scattered across the floor and stairs, signs of the hurry she had been in to get him out of his formal attire.

When he had agreed to play the part of father of the groom at Harry and Ginny's wedding he hadn't planned on coming home with the chief bridesmaid. After all, that was typically the best man's area. In this case though it was as unlikely as snow at the July ceremony, given that the best man and the chief bridesmaid had dated briefly and parted without regrets and the best man was married to another bridesmaid. The chances of Ron and Hermione running off together being remote, however, didn't seem to increase his chances.

Before the ceremony he wasn't even sure he had a chance with her. If asked, Remus would probably have denied being interested in Hermione. Yes, he'd noticed that she'd grown into a beautiful young woman, and he was aware that her sharp wit and keen intelligence only added to her unique attractiveness. But she was also a bit bossy, fiercely independent and significantly younger than him. His interest had been on an intellectual and aesthetic level, not a sexual one. Or so he told himself and would've insisted to anyone who thought to question him on the topic.

The first crack in his defence formed when she walked down the aisle behind Ginny, radiant in the soft green dresses the bride had chosen, dismissing mutters of '_but green's Slytherin'_ from Ron. The cut of the dress had highlighted Hermione's figure without looking vulgar or obvious, and the shade of green brought out the light in her eyes and the blond hints in her hair. Of course the expression of pure joy as she watched two of her closest friends dedicate their lives to one another only added to her beauty.

The voice that was still insisting that he was appreciating, not admiring, and definitely not lusting, was banished the moment they started dancing together. They'd been engaged in a lively and interesting conversation with Neville Longbottom when the band struck up an upbeat tune that Hermione declared to be one of her favourites and insisted someone danced with her. Neville laughed and declined, stating that her feet shouldn't have to suffer his deplorable dancing abilities. Hermione had turned wide eyes and a playful pout on Remus and he realised that he was completely in denial. He was in no way only interested in this woman on an intellectual level. He'd walk barefoot over broken glass for her if she asked him nicely. The opportunity to hold her in his arms was too good to pass. Besides, it was a little known fact that Remus had taught the smooth, suave playboy members of the Marauders to dance, and it was like riding a broom, once you knew how you never forgot.

It was with a confident stride that he led Hermione onto the dance floor, and proceeding to twirl twist and dip her until she was breathless with laughter and helpless to do anything but be swept away in the powerful, talented dance of her partner. As the band changed the tempo to a slow bluesy song Remus drew Hermione close and swayed with her to the soulful movement. She raised her head to look in his eyes and he read the desire there as clear as if it were printed on a page. He lowered his head and kissed her gently, his lips teasing and tasting as they lost themselves in the moment, the music and each other.

It was a wolf-whistle from a Weasley twin, Remus wasn't sure which, that caused them to draw apart and look hesitantly into each other's eyes. One look at the desire in Hermione's chocolate brown depths and Remus had lead her over to Harry and Ginny to say goodbye and apparated them back to his cottage in the Cornish countryside and proceeded to make her gasp, moan and scream for much of the night.

Coming out of his memories he stepped over his jacket and smiled as he saw the pool of green fabric on his hall floor. If she had left she'd gone without her dress. And, he realised as his bare foot trod on her stiletto heel, her shoes.

The sound of soft singing drew him towards his kitchen, her voice mingling with the scrape of pans and the sizzle of bacon and eggs. Remus rounded the corner and was greeted with the sexiest sight he had ever seen, Hermione cooking breakfast in his kitchen wearing his dress shirt, which was doing nothing to hide the contours of her body, or the fact that she was naked beneath it.

"That's a sight I could get used to," he said as he leant against the counter.

Hermione smiled then pouted. "I was hoping I'd be done before you woke, wanted to surprise you with breakfast in bed."

Remus smiled at walked towards her, his eyes hot and his steps almost predatory.

"Breakfast sounds good," he said as he stepped behind her, pulling her back against his chest. "I can think of something better though."

"Oh?" enquired Hermione, "And what might that be?"

Remus reached around her and turned the heat off under the pans. "It's easier to show you than tell you," he murmured into her ear before lowering his lips to her neck, nibbling on the skin. She moaned and arched back into him, pressing her bum into the hardness that was straining his loose pants. Remus growled deep in his chest and spun her so she was facing him. He kissed her fiercely, his lips demanding and possessive as he plundered her mouth. She kissed him back with equal passion, their lips and tongues exploring, dancing, exciting.

Hermione broke the kiss before pulling her lips away from his and trailing them down his neck and chest, licking and sucking at the skin, tracing old scars with her tongue, drawing moans and gasps from Remus. She was about to sink to her knees when he grasped her waist and lifted her effortlessly onto the wooden kitchen table. He made short work of the three buttons she had fastened on the shirt and lowered his lips to her full breasts while his hand slid up her soft thigh. He suckled on her rosy nipples, switching between them and drawing moans from Hermione's lips, her hands buried in his sandy hair. His hand stroked her thigh before sliding higher, his fingers gently parting her folds and finding her clit. She cried out as he stroked his fingers across the sensitive nerves, already wet with her juices. He lifted his head from her breast and kissed her again, his tongue sliding into her mouth as he slid one finger into her body. She moaned against his lips as he stroked her towards her climax, thrusting his fingers into her channel one moment then teasing her clit the next. She felt herself building towards her climax as his lips danced across her skin and his hands caressed her. She thrust her hips against him, seeking the extra friction that would push her over the edge, and she screamed his name as her orgasm hit, her back arched and her head thrown back as her body shuddered in delight.

Remus stepped back from her and shed his pants before plunging into her tight willing body. He braced one hand on the table and supported her with the other behind her back as he thrust hard and deep, delighting in the whimpers and moans that spilled from her lips with every thrust. Soon she was lifting her hips to his, their movement fast and hard, seeking the pleasure they knew the other could provide. Remus drew her legs round his waist, sliding even deeper into her body as he leant forward over her, his hips pumping quicker as he felt her body flutter around him before she came. He followed quickly after her, the delicious heat and tightness of her too much for him to resist. He slumped over her body as they caught their breath.

"Definitely better than breakfast," Hermione said when she was capable of speech.

"Glad you think so," Remus replied. "You know what else we need before breakfast?"

Hermione shook her head.

"A shower." Remus wrapped his arms around her, laughing as she squealed and held onto him with her arms and legs as he carried her upstairs.

There were a lot of mornings in the months and years which followed when Hermione could be found cooking breakfast in one of Remus's shirts. Occasionally they actually ate the breakfast, but not often.

_I hope you enjoyed reading, please consider a review! PS I'm looking for a beta, PM me if you're interested._


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